


壁ドン (extended play)

by gamblers



Series: pink & grey [2]
Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Oyaji Porn, kabedon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamblers/pseuds/gamblers
Summary: Single Japanese male, seeking a 20-year-old Shima Renzou.





	壁ドン (extended play)

**Author's Note:**

> a **suguro/shima** salaryman-style age gap AU (shima is the older one)  
>  basically just oyaji porn w/ some semblance of plot at the end im not gonna lie, hence the cringe title too

  
  


Ryuuji met him through Lewin, the depraved senior who had been a couple years above Ryuuji in undergrad at Kyodai and consequently a couple years above Ryuuji in the wherewithal of poor life decisions. Said poor life decisions eventually netted them both a position at this live-fast-die-furious IT company in the middle of Tokyo, so going by that logic Ryuuji supposed he could technically blame every other thing that had gone profoundly wrong in his life on Lewin Light, too.

It was on a Friday night, in July. Lewin had insisted on taking a few of the younglings in the office out for drinks, sans any specific reason. “My treat,” he told Ryuuji, as if he needed to establish this to somebody. But then again, perpetually vacant people like Okumura probably took Lewin’s invitations at face-value. Ryuuji was certain, however that the motive behind such samaritan generosity had little to do with proper senpai etiquette and more to do with what-was-his-name, that blonde investment banker with the snotty accent who worked at the firm seven floors above theirs. Something-something making eyes at Lewin in the elevator too many times before the morning coffee could yank Lewin’s libido back on track, something-something metal pole shoved up his exotic European ass, something-something just you watch, Lewin Light will be the first one to remove that pole and replace it with his large, throbbing—yeah, that sounded about right. Okumura really _didn’t_ have to ask Lewin to elaborate.

So it was Ryuuji, and Okumura, and randomly Kamiki who got dragged into this absurd charade, basically as punishment dealt for staying longer at the office than they should have on a Friday night. The bar they were headed for seemed like a clean enough place, anyway. Ryuuji resolved on the train ride there that he would keep any existential dread from trickling too far down his sleeves.

“Oi, Lightning!”

Seated at their table inside, he appeared to be older than Lewin. Not significantly so, but by enough that Ryuuji wondered at first if he was a brother-in-law or a buchou from another section at work. Judging by his empty beer glass he’d been waiting for a good twenty minutes, probably, before their group had stepped through the genkan of the izakaya. When he saw Lewin he raised one hand halfway in the air and flapped it at their general vicinity, as if he were about to hail a taxicab. “You didn’t tell me you were going to bring a pile of brats with you.” Which of course spiked Okumura’s abrasive temperament about ten degrees higher. Even Ryuuji could feel some irritation starting to twitch along his jawline. Next to him, Kamiki rolled her eyes.

“Oh,” said Lewin. The disappointment colouring his voice could have served as inspirational fodder for at least one melancholic B-side album for a mid-2000s j-rock band. “That’s…Shima-san. He works at Yamantaka Bank. We were colleagues at some point in the last five years, a period of time that I have since blocked from my memory.”

Shima grinned. “If you’re looking for Arthur, he doesn’t do group dates,” he said breezily. “So he sent me instead. Who knows, maybe he’ll actually show up later though.” He shifted one seat over on the tatami to let Lewin take the cushion next to him. “Too bad, right?”

“Too bad,” Lewin deadpanned.

“Now are you going to introduce me to your children or not? I’m Renzou, by the way, and you shouldn’t believe a single word that Lewin Light has to say about me.” He stared very pointedly at Ryuuji then, performed a casual appraisal of Ryuuji’s face and shoulders and torso, his expression so strange and intense that Ryuuji had to look away first. A coil of heat spontaneously curled up from Ryuuji’s gut and settled in the base of his throat. Fuck. “Nice to meet you, I’m Suguro,” he mumbled, and made sure to sandwich himself between Rin and Izumo.

They drank a lot of alcohol after that.

Shima had a really nice face, was what he noticed at first. His hair was not his natural colour, although not much else about him seemed all that natural, from the way he spoke about his bad habits to the way he didn’t bare his teeth when he smiled to the way he lit his cigarette in the dark. None of Shima seemed unstaged, as if he was trying the whole time to pull some honey-trapped blend of wool over Ryuuji’s eyes. But if that was the case, maybe Ryuuji was a willing victim.

Past the two-hour mark Lewin finally became too bored and/or irritated to continue this ruse, miraculous considering how long he would have lasted under normal circumstances. “You’re a fucking whore,” he told Shima, obviously drunk. “I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

Shima raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” said Lewin, and then turned around to speak too-close and too-loudly into Ryuuji’s ear. “Suguro, you should go home. This guy’s a fucking whore.” Ryuuji jerked his head back with a frown. At some time in the last hour Okumura had disappeared, probably to sulk somewhere again about his brother getting the promotion that he’d wanted last month for himself. Kamiki was on her phone playing BattleCats. All in all Ryuuji was only about 80 percent intoxicated, his appetite for liquor put off by the amount of vitriol exuding from Lewin’s side of the table. It made him just a bit curious about what kind of person this Arthur guy was anyway, to be able to hold that kind of sway on Lewin’s regularly impenetrable magnetic field of solipsism.

Lewin at batted his shoulder. “Oi, Ryuuji-kuuun, you listening to me?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Ryuuji didn’t wanna argue with Lewin. As it transpired he shouldn’t have worried about it anyway, because in the next 20 seconds his senpai’s head had hit the table with a soft _thunk_. Maybe it was best to give him some space for a moment. “I’m gonna go outside for some air. Izumo, will you make sure he’s ok?” Kamiki nodded back at him without looking up from her game.

To his surprise (but not really), Shima followed him out the back door.

“Not your regular crowd in there, is it?” he asked Ryuuji first, when they were both leaning against the concrete of the back alley wall.

“They’re fine,” Ryuuji shrugged, rubbing his head. “I’m fine too.” Maybe. He couldn’t exactly recall how many bottles of shochu they’d gone through collectively at this point.

“Need a light?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Sure. Anything else you’d like me to do?”

Shima’s fingers were quite thin and rather long. The way he fumbled his cigarette and sucked the smoke through his lips, it made Ryuuji impulsively wonder what it would feel like to have those fingers wrapped around something else.

“I…maybe?” His mouth was suddenly very dry. Was he being that obvious? Perhaps it was Shima who was being that obvious. Perhaps he was just really drunk.

“Maybe,” Shima repeated after him. And licked his lips.

OK, he was definitely really drunk, that’s what this was. The pavement on the ground and Shima’s face were swapping places in front of his eyes and he was just really drunk…that was the only explanation for why he was presently tilting Shima’s head back and kissing him on the mouth.

Along with that really nice face Shima possessed very nice lips, very nice teeth, and a very nice tongue. Ryuuji could tell from the curve of Shima’s lips against his, picked apart from the mingled taste of crisp aftershave and tobacco, that Shima was smiling while he was kissing Ryuuji back.

“Um, wait,” he managed to say, in between kisses, “you were trying to go for me all night,” disentangling himself momentarily from Shima’s hands fisting his shirt, “weren’t you?”

“God, I dunno,” Shima leaned back, his voice bordering on incredulous _do-you-have-to-ask_. He stubbed his cigarette against the wall. “No shit, you’re so fucking hot.” And then his mouth was on Ryuuji’s again, teeth biting down on Ryuuji’s lips once more before he was dragging his kisses down to meet the hollow of Ryuuji’s throat.

“I,” said Ryuuji weakly. He could feel his knees beginning to buckle. “I…Would you like to, that is, go somewhere else?”

“Hmm.” Shima’s breath against his neck was very warm, very wet. He felt Shima’s lips move back up to his ear, leaving the skin on his neck flush with kiss marks and sultry from both the summer air and his own sweat. “Where do you propose we go, Ryuuji-kun?”

“I dunno, some place with a bed.” Ryuuji said in a rush, and swallowed hard. He was being so, so fucking lame. He could kick himself, if his legs weren’t the literal definition of jello right now.

“This place has an upstairs,” Shima murmured softly back into his mouth. Combined with Ryuuji’s current lack of sobriety, his words were making Ryuuji’s head spin that much faster. “Would you like me to show you?”

He could still hear the sound of people drinking inside the izakaya. Sounds of bottles clinking, glasses thudding on the table, noisy drunk salarymen throwing meaningless rounds of jan-ken-pon into the muggy air. He could still hear Lewin snoring against the wooden table and the frenetic tapping of Kamiki’s fingers against her iPhone touchscreen. Ryuuji could still hear all of this, while Shima Renzou was pressing him against the concrete wall in the back alley, one hand teasing Ryuuji’s erection ever so slightly with the tips of his fingers, his other hand palming his own dick through his pants.

He didn’t want to know why there was a room upstairs and how Shima knew about it or even why Shima had a key, but the bed in the room turned out to be on the small side for things to proceed comfortably so he wound up bending Shima over the only other piece of furniture in the room, mouth forming sloppy kisses on the nape of Shima’s neck. A splinter on the side of the table dug into Ryuuji’s palm as he tried to steady them both, his other hand working Shima’s legs open with his fingers. Shima, to his credit, barely made much involuntary noise with one, two slicked fingers jammed up his asshole, but that didn’t seem to keep him from being loud about other things.

“Didn’t think you’d have much experience doing this,” he panted against the table, letting a moan slip out of his mouth just loud enough for Ryuuji to hear him and keep both their dicks uncomfortably hard. His breath caught, finally, when Ryuuji added a third finger. “ _Fuck_ , ease off. Your dick can’t be so thick that you need to use three fucking fingers. _That feels fucking good though, ah—_ ”

“Can you shut the fuck up a little,” Ryuuji hissed. “People will hear you.” He moved his other hand onto the small of Shima’s back, stroking the skin there before scissoring his fingers in Shima’s ass again, eliciting another sharp cry from Shima’s lips.

Shima twisted his head back up and bit the inner corner of his mouth. When Ryuuji’s fingers moved inside him again, his back arched into Ryuuji’s like a cat’s. “That’s no way to speak to your elders, Ryuuji-kun.”

Up close now, and with the single lamp in this room slightly brighter than it had been downstairs, he could see Shima’s really nice face somewhat better. There were a few finer lines on Shima’s forehead that Ryuuji hadn’t noticed before, complexion smoothed out previously by alcohol and the drip of the lights inside the izakaya. He noticed also the faint sign of stretch marks on Shima’s shoulders, likely remnants from a bygone era when Shima’s skin had fit the outline of a more muscled physique. It made him wonder what Shima looked like if he was ten years younger. His dick got harder just thinking about it. He could put out a Craigslist ad for that fucking missed opportunity. Single Japanese male, seeking a 20-year-old Shima Renzou.

“Shima-san, just how old are you anyway?”

“I’m thirty-six this year, why?”

Ryuuji’s head stopped spinning for a solitary moment. His fingers slipped out of Shima’s ass. “You’re _ten years_ older than me? Way to make me feel like I’m about to fuck an old man.”

“Quit pretending that doesn’t turn you the fuck on,” Shima growled, wiggling out from under Ryuuji’s hands and flipping himself over. And then he was on his knees and his mouth was covering Ryuuji’s swollen cock.

Shima was really good at sucking dick, that much was clear. His fingers moved as quickly and as hotly as his mouth did, sloppy against Ryuuji’s skin as he ran his tongue along the length of Ryuuji’s cock, two fingers gently stroking the sensitive area under his balls. He looked so fucking sexy like that it was unfair, the wrinkles on his forehead deepened now as he concentrated on blowing Ryuuji for as long and as fucking hard as possible. No teeth, the rhythm even, his breath unhurried when he relaxed the muscles in his throat to take Ryuuji in deeper and allow the tip of Ryuuji’s cock to graze against the very back of his throat. Holy fuck. Ryuuji buried his fingers in Shima’s hair. “Don’t,” he blurted out, the words in his mouth emerging more strangled and desperate than he’d intended. “Y-You’re gonna make me fucking come.”

Shima looked up at him then, his eyes heavily lidded and his previously-slicked hair now hanging mussed up in his face, breathing heavily as he let Ryuuji’s cock slide out of his mouth with a wet _pop_. “You better get on with it, then. Don’t make me beg. You—” Ryuuji swallowed those next words with another kiss. He could taste himself on Shima’s mouth and it made his dick twitch in anticipation. He dragged Shima to his feet and pushed him backwards onto the bed.

“I’ll make you beg, don’t worry.”

Shima had to smile. “That was so lame. Did you have to say that?”

He didn’t have any more snide comments to make about it, later, by the time Ryuuji was grabbing his hips and fucking him back into the bed, barely stifling his groans each time Ryuuji pushed his cock into his ass a fraction deeper. The expression that Shima wore later was one of complete ruin, of somebody who had gone to sleep somewhere only to wake up with the lights on in every single room in his house and his breath stolen by a missed opportunity posted on a Craigslist ad. He barely possessed the vernacular at that point to tell Ryuuji to fuck him harder, letting his fingernails communicate more of his desire instead as his hands scrabbled for purchase against Ryuuji’s back. _Good boy, such a good cock, do you like fucking my ass like that?_ And so forth.

Ryuuji bit down on Shima’s shoulder when he came inside his condom, his face buried in Shima’s neck.

“Jerk me off, you fucking brat,” said Shima, after 10 seconds of silence. “I’m still hard.”

They didn’t spend much longer in the room after that, save to pick up some discarded articles of clothing off the floor and roll the sheets up on the bed. Ryuuji still didn’t want to know why there was a room upstairs and how Shima knew about it or even why Shima had a key. Shima, on the other hand, grew somewhat chattier than before. As they made their way back down through the back stairwell connecting the back alley to the upper floors of the building, his conversation with Ryuuji converged less around his work at Yamantaka and veered toward more absurd topics, with increasing levels of perversion.

“Say, Ryuuji-kun, have you ever heard of demonology? What about exorcism?”

“You mean like the study of demons? And then fighting them or whatever?”

“Yeah, stuff like that. Demons are pretty bad for humanity, right, so you gotta have exorcists that fight them to survive. And there are different levels of demons so as you keep fighting them they get stronger and stronger. Kind of like a video game. Only if you get beat, your soul gets sent to the Shadow Realm. Or hell. Whichever one is closer, I guess.”

“The Shadow Realm? What is this, a game of _Yu-Gi-Oh!_?”

“Sure, I dunno what that is. But lemme just ask you this question. If you were to fight demons, I mean like if you were to be an exorcist, what kind of exorcist would you want to be?”

They were back in the alley outside of the bar now, the summer air still sticky against Ryuuji’s skin, atmosphere basically unchanged from how it had been half an hour prior to their bout of hushed and panicked fucking. Ryuuji glanced at Shima. What a weird question to be asking a stranger you just met and had sex with, really, but maybe it was just all a part of the honey-trapped blend of wool Shima Renzou liked to pull over people’s eyes.

“I’m not sure. If I had to fight then I guess I just want to be the guy that can protect my family and friends. I don’t wanna die recklessly or anything, is what I’m saying.” He thought about his dad at that moment. His old man would be the damn worst demon fighter in the world, probably, definitely the type run away at the first sign of trouble. Okumura, too. Okumura would suck so bad at being an exorcist.

Shima chuckled. The sound of his laughter was unnatural, like the colour of his hair and the way he lit his cigarette in the dark. “Wow, that’s like a textbook answer, Ryuuji-kun.”

“What,” said Ryuuji. “What would you do differently?”

“I think if I had to be an exorcist, I’d wanna be one that stirred shit up. Like, make things reeeally difficult for other people. And for myself too, honestly. I think if demons could communicate with people and shit, then I’d wanna become a go-between and talk to the demons too, so I can figure out how they think.”

“Why would you want to do that,” Ryuuji asked, genuinely confused. “What purpose would that serve but to get you in trouble with both sides?”

“Things could get interesting.”

“Yeah, but what if you die?”

“Ah,” said Shima. As if he hadn’t thought of that. He lit one more cigarette and placed it on his lips before he turned back to Ryuuji with another cheap, unnatural smile. “But I won’t die, will I? Not as long as you’re there to come save my life.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i was actually in the middle of spitting out this really long & really dumb multichap shima/bon future fic where shima became a salaryman after gehenna gate 2k17 but somehow this fic dovetailed off of that one instead, so here we are. thanks for reading & please lemme know what you think! xx
> 
> 22/6/17 - i wrote a [prelude](http://splitpush.tumblr.com/post/162155914260) to this on tumblr


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